I Remember

I remember

…hot days and clear nights, with the old steel fan tucked under the lifted window to pull in the cool of the night where stars twinkled and the north lights draped curtains of yellow and purple across the horizon

…barefoot on the pavement, dressed in swimsuits and carrying towels down the avenue, turn left on Washington and head straight south to Elks Pool where a quarter gets you in to four hours of fun in the cold and clear chlorine waters. The whistle blows and the life guards get a break while we fling out our terry cloth towels onto the hot concrete around the pool and lay out to sun. Everyone sitting and talking or laying around quietly while the life guards finished their fifteen minute break. Act out, and you were out for a week. Waiting, waiting as the tower guard climbs up and the walker guards stand at the corners. Waiting for that whistle to blow to jump or dive back into the briskness of the cold, sparkling waters reflecting the sun while we squint our eyes to find each other.

… after the swim, to the last minute before five o’clock, shivering from the icy pool water, we cuddled inside our bright towels and walked the two blocks to Dad’s work— for that nickel each, for a small Dairy Queen ice cream cone topped in chocolate, one block back. Then hike back up Washington to Avenue C, turn right and head back home, ready for mom’s cheese sandwich or fried fish dinner. Another day just like all the days of summer.

… except the weekends where we piled into the car and drove a couple hours to Lake Sakakawea where we met the cousins and spent hours catching frogs, playing in the tall prairie grass, and winning at some card game while our parents tossed in our lines and theirs to fish for the Northern Pike that would feed us for the week, and the would-be record Northern Pike caught by my dad in Lake Audubon long after I’d left home, becoming part of the North Dakota Whopper Club, and now in my living room on top of the hutch, along with his fishing hat.


Some where in many old photos is one of my dad with the pike, but it could be up at school where my students stared at its size, though it is not as big as the salmon they snag along the Columbia River below Chief Joseph Dam.


About this post:

This post is part of the March for Slice of Life by The Two Writing Teachers.

I’ve blogged five years for March for Slice of Life on another blog:

Five Years of Slice of Life on Ask What Else

If you want to try blogging, this month is a great time to start, as bloggers everywhere renew their writing fare for Slice of Life.

And educational bloggers — teachers and students– often join in the Edublogs Blogging Challenge that starts on March 15.  Slice of Life posts fit right in.

One of those bloggers also offers some awesome prompts. Veteran educator Paula Bourque@litcoachlady, has also blogged daily in March. This year she is writing from prompts from Natalie Goldberg’s book Old Friend from Far Away: The Practice of Writing Memoir .  Last year, she blogged from her own book of prompts, called Sparks:  SPARK! Quick Writes to Kindle Hearts and Minds in Elementary Classrooms   (2019) with Stenhouse Publishers.

I chose her March 1 prompt from the book; the prompt is to write for ten minutes about “I remember…”  Thanks, Paula, for the ideas!

Go ahead– try it and join in!  Slice of Life tweets at #sol20

PROMPT: Write for ten minutes on “I remember…”

crosspost at AskWhatElse